One Art

BY PROF. VAROL AKMAN

Most of us are returning from an extended holiday, and well, it's back-to-work blues all over again… Do not despair, though. This week I would like to offer a little potpourri. Enjoy!

Thomas Lux (b. 1946)

If You See This Man
Notify someone of authority if you see this man:
He has a fish hook
in his upper lip.
He usually carries a bleeding starfish in a dixie cup.
He is an excellent fork-lift
operator and is known
to play dice with nuns.
He is big.
He claims to detest miniature golf.
We want him for the robbery
of the first kiss ever given
to a bus driver's sickly daughter. …



Ron Padgett (b. 1942)

The Drink
I am always interested in the people in films who have just had a drink thrown in their faces. Sometimes they react with uncontrollable rage, but sometimes -- my favorites -- they do not change their expressions at all. Instead they raise a handkerchief or napkin and calmly dab at the offending liquid, as the hurler jumps to her feet and storms away. The other people at the table are understandably uncomfortable. A woman leans over and places her hand on the sleeve of the man's jacket and says, "David, you know she didn't mean it." David answers, "Yes," but in an ambiguous tone -- the perfect adult response. …




Janet Bowdan (b. 1963)


The Year

When you did not come for dinner, I ate leftovers for days. When you missed dessert, I finished all the strawberries. When you did not notice me, I walked four miles uphill past you and into Florence and five miles the other way. When you did not like my dress, I wore it with gray silk shoes instead of gold ones. When you did not see my car had sunk into a snowdrift at the turn of your driveway, I took the shovel off your porch and dug myself out. When you stopped writing, I wrote. When you sent back my poems, I made them into earrings and wore them to work. When you refused to appear at the reunion, I went to the dentist who showed me X-rays of my teeth. When you did not tell me you would be in town, I met you on Main Street on the way to the library. …

Philip Dacey (b. 1939)

The New Love Poem
The new love poem
is known for its honesty.
The new love poem says
I don't love you.

The new love poem
remembers the old love poem
in which a woman's body
was compared to the entire world.
The new love poem tries not to feel
superior to the old love poem.

The new love poem can live
on a steady diet
of bitter fruit. The new love poem
thinks sweets
are for children.